Because Wine is Cheaper Than Therapy
by princessxleah
Summary: Set mid-season 5, AU. Callie and Cristina have a girl talk. Sort of. With lots of wine and awkwardness.


Callie sat on her bed comfortably, her feet propped up on a pillow as she painted her toenails a vibrant red. She was concentrating on the left big toe, intent on making the coat even and smooth over the nail. Without warning, however, her concentration was jarred sharply by the bedroom door banging open. A red nail polish streak now adorned Callie's ankle as her arm jerked in surprise at the intrusion.

"Damn it, Yang." Callie was annoyed as she reached for the nail polish remover and a couple of tissues to clean up the mess. One of the things that made Cristina Yang an ideal person to share an apartment with was that she didn't barge into her bedroom at inopportune moments in some dramatic fashion, such as banging a door against the wall. "You could've at least--"

"I got in the shower with him." Cristina's abrupt statement was punctuated only by her brisk pacing, leaving Callie less annoyed and more...well, completely confused.

She sought to catch up, to realign her mind to work in a way that understood the shorthand that was unique to Cristina and her usual partner in crime, Grey. "Um..." This was going to take a minute. And Cristina was of absolutely no help whatsoever, as she just stood there staring at Callie, as if she was just supposed to get this or something.

"You got in the shower with...?" Cristina really didn't talk about her love life, or her sex life, not that there had been much of either since Burke had left, which, as a roommate, she knew better than anyone. Not that she was judging, because, well, if she was to be honest with herself, sex droughts were absolutely nothing new to her...okay, she had to focus. Cristina got in the shower with...

"With...oh! Hunt!" It was kind of painfully obvious now that she thought about it, given all of the not-so-subtle looks that had been going on between them and the sexual tension that could be cut with a knife whenever they were in the same vicinity...where was she going with this again? Hunt and Cristina in the shower, right. Callie raised a teasing eyebrow."Reeeeeally?" She grinned at the taciturn Cristina. "So, you wanna spill details? Duration? Measurements?"

"Not like that. I wish." Cristina began pacing even more agitatedly. "No, he was late. And drunk. And he smelled. So he took a shower in a suit and he called me into the bathroom and he told me he lay on top of the guy's body..."

"Whoa, wait, what?" Callie's head was spinning, from the fact that Cristina was talking, from the startling realization that her controlled exterior was replaced by something far more uncertain and desperate, and possibly from the fumes from the nail polish. "He lay on top of a guy's body? So, Hunt's..."

Based on the look her roommate shot her, Callie was guessing that the source of Cristina's distress was not any sort of information related to Hunt being gay, but now she was at a loss as to what to do or say as Cristina just sighed and shook her head. She ran a hand through her dark curls as she paced some more, which did absolutely nothing to slow the spinning of Callie's head.

She sensed that Cristina needed to talk, and that she wasn't used to having these kinds of talks with anyone but Meredith, but whatever the reason, Cristina was here, seeking...something...from her. In that moment, Callie decided to take matters into her own hands and attempt to draw Cristina out.

"Okay, you? Sit down." Callie motioned to the bed as she gingerly got to her feet, trying to avoid wrecking her freshly painted toes. She made her way into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses and two bottles of red wine before she walked awkwardly back to the bedroom. Cristina was sitting cross-legged on the bed, morosely contemplating a bottle of mauve polish. Callie sat next to her and poured them both a glass of wine, balancing her own carefully in between her legs as she handed the other glass to Cristina. She gratefully accepted and proceeded to down the glass in a single, smooth gulp.

Callie took a slow sip of her own wine as she contemplated the woman next to her. Cristina complained often, about everything, but she rarely talked about what she was feeling. She kept so much to herself, often to Callie's frustration, because there were times where she wanted to come home and just unload on her and receive, as she would from any other normal roommate, some sort of advice or something. They were close to the extent that they lived with one another and went out for drinks, but they never really talked. She wasn't completely sure how she was supposed to go about this, how to help Cristina.

The beginning would probably be her best bet here. "So." Callie tried to keep her voice casual, unobtrusive. "You and Hunt had a date."

Cristina snorted, taking another sip of wine.

"…And it didn't go well." Callie proffered the bottle to Cristina so she could pour herself another glass. Clearly the petite woman needed it.

"Understatement." Cristina's tone was frustratingly devoid of anything that Callie could work with.

This was going to take awhile. Callie patiently sipped her wine as she saw Cristina silently grow more agitated, her liquid brown eyes turbulent. She evidently wanted to talk, well; maybe "wanted" was a strong word. She needed to talk, rather, but she didn't seem to know how to go about it.

For now, Callie decided to best course of action was to say nothing, which was automatically against her normal nature, and let Cristina talk when she was ready. She didn't have to wait as long as she expected, however, as it became clear that Cristina just needed to get it over with.

"Burke left."

Well, it hadn't been what she was expecting, and she had to work hard to keep any sort of reaction from showing on her face at the mention of Burke's name, but it was a start. Callie nodded silently and drank some more wine. Encouraged by the lack of questions or pity, Cristina continued.

"He just…he left. He never…He was just gone." She broke off, glancing at Callie, her eyes speaking more than her words could ever say. Callie inclined her head, trying to show Cristina that she understood. She had known heartbreak and the incomprehensible pain that came from loving someone so much and them leaving, physically, emotionally…it didn't matter. They both sucked.

Cristina shook her head, seemingly to get her bearings. "And I didn't think…I mean, I didn't want…Then he came along in his camouflage with his pen and his 'So's?'…"

She looked at Callie directly. "He kissed me. Before he went back. He…it was…" She shook her head. "I hadn't felt that since…"

Callie was surprised, but not shocked. She had walked in on them that day when Cristina was taking care of Hunt's wound, and the sheer intimacy she had intruded upon in that moment…well, she could make it up to Cristina later. Clear out when she wanted the apartment for her and Hunt alone…then again, the nature of their conversation may have suggested she was getting ahead of herself. So there was something between Cristina and Hunt, and had been before he returned to Seattle Grace. Callie still wasn't sure exactly where this little history lesson was going, though.

"And then he came back, and he was…it was in the after…" She sighed; ignoring the confused look Callie sent in her direction and sipped her wine. "I can't do this. It's too…I can't. I don't need his issues. I can't help. I…" She finished off her glass with a snap of her wrist, frustrated. "I can't do it."

Okay…well, this was more than Cristina had ever said at one time that concerned matters of the heart that had nothing to do with surgery, and still Callie felt lost. The wine wasn't helping to clear it up, though it seemed to help loosen Cristina's tongue. As far as she could tell, Hunt had problems, maybe related to something that had happen overseas, and Cristina was overwhelmed and freaking out and wanting to run.

But something…something was making her stay. Cristina was not an easy person to get to know, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was obvious that she did not let people into her life lightly. If she really wanted to walk away, she would have done it already. Callie glanced at Cristina, the look in her eyes and how it conflicted with the words she was saying.

She knew that look.

Oh, Cristina was _fucked_.

"I am trying to do the girl talk thing here. Of the two of us, you're the one that's supposed to not suck at it." Cristina's uncertain tone took on its usual abruptness. "Even Meredith usually says something at this point."

"Something self-involved about her and McDreamy, probably," Callie responded without thinking. "Oh. I mean…" That probably wasn't the right way to keep Cristina in her unusually expressive mood, talking smack about her best friend.

"Exactly. So…" Cristina didn't seem to take offense to her words. "Do that rambling thing that you do. Talk. Say things. Tell me what to do."

Callie laughed. "Seriously? You want me to tell you what to do? What, because my track record is so great?" She opened the second bottle of wine. "And since when do you listen to anyone anyway, especially about stuff like this?" She poured some more wine for the two of them. "You're into Hunt. He's obviously into you. So he has issues. He's clearly found his kindred spirit there." Callie kept going in spite of the dirty look Cristina sent her way. "I mean, you're there for a reason, right? Something's making you stick around?"

Cristina blinked. "Why are you asking me so many questions in a very short span of time?"

"You are more socially inept than I thought…okay. He has problems. You don't know if you can handle them. You're obviously not having sex."

"I could be having sex."

"I can hear the Wand through the wall. Three to five times every night. If the sex was that bad that you needed to get yourself off every night, you wouldn't bother."

"You listen to me and my vibrator?"

"You're loud." Cristina opened her mouth to say something but Callie pushed her wine glass to her mouth to silence her. "The point is you're not with him because of sex. And you could get that anywhere if you wanted to. He has all of those issues and whatever. So why are you with him?"

Cristina didn't say anything. Her eyes clouded over and she continued to drink her wine, never looking at Callie.

"If it's easier to walk away, just do it. Just tell him you can't handle it and then walk off into the parking lot and never see him again…" Cristina glanced sidelong at her. "Uh…never mind. But it shouldn't be this hard for you to cut ties, right? Unless there's something else there…"

There was still no response from Cristina, who seemed to find the dark liquid in her glass fascinating. Finally she looked up, though she still didn't look at Callie.

"Girl talk sucks."

"You didn't answer any of my questions."

"Too many questions are what makes girl talk suck."

"It usually helps when the both of the parties involved contribute. Or when one or both of the parties are getting laid. Compare, contrast, brag…" Callie sighed, looking at the second near-empty bottle of wine, wanting to drink the last bit straight out of the bottle. "Why aren't you going to Grey with this stuff, anyway? She can give you non-answers and ask probing questions that you don't want to answer just as well as I can." She grinned, trying to get Cristina out of her suddenly melancholy, thoughtful mood that was being masked by her gruff self.

Once again Cristina was silent, and she swilled the last bit of wine from her glass before she, too, eyed the last bit of wine. She looked at Callie, and the agreement was made instinctively.

"We're going to need a bigger bottle." Callie said decisively. "White Zin or pinot noir?"

"Both. And the Cabernet you just bought." Cristina lay back on the pillows comfortably. "Um, Callie?"

"Yeah?" Callie turned from the doorway.

She ran a hand through her curly hair, looking uncomfortable. "Say I…I decide to not to…if I, you know. Stay. Deal with it. Him. Whatever." She looked at Callie, her liquid brown eyes naked with emotion. "That doesn't mean…anything. Right? It's just a thing. It's not…"

"It's not what?" Callie asked, as gently as she could.

Cristina wrinkled her nose and shook off the resurgence of her worry and uncertainty. "Forget it. I'm not saying anything else without another two or three glasses of wine in me."

"Fair enough." Callie tried to leave again before she was stopped once again by Cristina's voice.

"Sorry I ruined your nail polish, by the way."

Callie smiled; knowing that it was the closest Cristina would ever get to thanking her for their little non-conversation. "It's fine. You'll just have to owe me."

Cristina snorted. "Owe you what?"

"Details. When the Wand gets a vacation." Callie smirked as she went to get more wine. "All of the dirty, delicious details. Pictures, if you can."

"Aren't you a lesbian now?"

"I'm home on a Saturday night in my bedroom and on my bed with only you and the nail polish remover for company. You have anything else to say or on that note can I go get the wine so I can start drinking again and forget about that depressing fact?"


End file.
